Wicked Ways
by bisexualcharliedavis
Summary: If Matthew was smarter, he would have told him to go home. Charlie Davis is volatile. Sure, the murder stuff was new, but did Matthew really want a kid who ordered a murder the same way he ordered a sausage roll in his home?


_/a small side story for an AU I've been writing which features Rose and Edward as cops, Charlie as a highly strung criminal mastermind and Matthew as his unfortunately whipped body guard. An attempt to switch jobs and retain the core personality traits of each character. If it worked…Well that's up to you. Fic contains : It doesnt come up in the fic but Matthew is meant to be in his early to mid thirties.  
_

There isn't much good news these days, Matthew thought as he flipped the page to the next one. Leaders that can't lead, Mother England suffering post war, and the price of petrol was going up. He took in through a breath through his nose and smelt nothing but blood and bleach. They'd not had a good morning so far, but it was nothing a hot cup of tea and the paper couldn't cure.

Charlie was wandering around out of Matthew's line of sight, rustling in cupboards for something. Compared to the string bean he'd been when they met, these days he was starting to get a bit of muscle on him. But that could just be that living with Matthew meant he wasn't constantly fighting four other boys for food. He ate enough for two, but it didn't show. He'd prefer it more if Charlie was eating at school, though. Despite his arguments that he was never going to live long enough to use anything they taught him in real life, Matthew thought schooling was important. And after he beat up that kid who made the mistake of raising a hand to Charlie so bad he was in the hospital, he thought that it would be easier for him.

If Matthew was smarter, he would have told him to go home. Charlie Davis is volatile. Sure, the murder stuff was new, but did Matthew really want a kid who ordered a murder the same way he ordered a sausage roll in his home? Perhaps, but he paid rent. He paid Matthew's rent too usually. He paid exceedingly well for a teenager. If he was a man who thought further into the future he might be aware that Charlie was going places and the best place to be was by his side. But then again, what were the chances that Charlie should be staying with a man who committed murders with practiced ease these days? Actually Matthew was willing to go out on a limb and say that he did. Charlie was fascinated with violence, so long as he didn't actually have to get his hands dirty.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a weight on his lap approximately how much he would estimate Charlie to weigh. Just light enough that he could still get away with sitting in his lap but probably not for too much longer. He lowered the paper was confronted by a bare, pale chest. Charlie was always so pale no matter how much or how little time he spent in the sun, Matthew thought, as he raised his eyes to his face. Only then, he noted Charlie was entirely naked. He had a small smirk on his face and long, dark eyelashes.

"I'm legal." Was all he said, taking hold of Matthew's hands and putting them on his chest. It's not the first time he's seen Charlie naked and probably not the last. He walked around the place naked all the time just to get a rise out of him, and this was the first time he really was getting a rise out of him. It really had been so painfully long since the last time.

He looks like the very image of sin. Expanses of perfect, unblemished skin. A thin cover of goose bumps along his arms which were draped around Matthew's shoulders. Lips that were almost built to do unmentionable things. His breath was hot and moist, his bottom row of teeth all white and flat were just visible past the line of his pink, pink lip. The trail of blood leading from his nose down onto his chin was just tacky. He'd be the last person on Earth to claim his thoughts regarding his boss and room mate were pure, but…

"It's illegal for two men to have sex."

"When have you ever let a little thing like the law stop you? I know you, Matthew. You operate with your own moral code, which demands you wait for me to hit a certain age for you to feel comfortable in a sexual situation."

When God got around to creating Matthew Lawson, he'd already wasted all his good traits on his sister. It was Vera who was the smart, beautiful and kind one. Matthew was born with one art to master and that was the art of violence. To be any good with violence, one does not require a whole lot of conscience.

What God also did, when he got around to creating Matthew Lawson, was give him just enough awareness of right and wrong to know that having sex with his seventeen year old troubled and volatile roommate slash boss was a terrible, terrible idea. Despite himself, he removed his hands from Charlie's chest where he can no longer feel his ribs and put them in his lap.

"Put your clothes back on, Charlie."

Charlie looked surprised by the request. His arms fell away from Matthew's neck and landed in his lap.

"What?"

"Put your clothes back on." Matthew lifted his newspaper again and tried to focus on the text. It swirled around in front of his eyes. Charlie slid off his lap, stood for a moment and stalked away. He let out a sigh of relief that Charlie had let if drop. It was rare for Charlie to turn his temper on Matthew ("Why would I want to injure the tool I use most?") but if there was a time he expected to get a thrashing it was now.

Charlie returned to the room, now wearing pants and a cream short sleeved shirt. Matthew lowered his paper.

"I want you to teach me how to shoot someone."

"Now that is something I can do." Matthew said, standing and tossing aside his paper. This was the type of innocence he felt okay ruining.


End file.
